


it had to be you

by wolframvonbielefeld (maknaeline)



Series: cloud's giftfics [6]
Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Murder attempt, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maknaeline/pseuds/wolframvonbielefeld
Summary: They'll be together like he always wanted - for richer or for poorer, in sickness and health, for better or for worse: they will always find each other in every lifetime, their family jokes. This does not make Wangji less nervous as he stands at the altar, until he sees Wuxian's bright face shine back at him.After all, they always write their own vows.





	it had to be you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yunmengqiang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmengqiang/gifts).



> written for cherry @sassquill, who is a darling, and this fic got out of hand so fast that I had to take an extra week to finish it.
> 
> title taken from it had to be you by frank sinatra. [please listen to this cover of the song it's gorgeous.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1weM0H9dO2E)
> 
> what would we, as fanfic writers, do without music. how in fucking hell would we name our fics otherwise.

Wangji feels like he’s been having an out of body experience ever since he woke up. This feeling does not go away when he finally turns to see Wuxian coming down the aisle. His brother nudges him gently, teasing, and he stands up straight, almost breathless when his face finally meets his.

 

Wuxian always looks gorgeous in red, for as long as Wangji has remembered, as far back as high school drama club performances. He looks especially radiant today though. His long hair is in an updo, ruby hairpiece pinning it neatly, and red ribbons trailing from it. His robes are a darker red than his hairpiece, a sash in vermilion and gold holding it together. Silver filigree work trails down the front, depicting lotuses. They match, for once - Wangji hasn’t held back from going all out with his own traditional robes in a brighter red, embroidered patterns of stylized clouds trailing down the sleeves. Wuxian’s eyes, under that layer of beautiful makeup, for once look only at him, _only_ him, and Wangji questions reality for a split second before Wuxian takes his hand and smiles, blinding him all over again. The warmth and calluses ground him, and he squeezes it back.

 

“God, some of us have to eat after this,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, as they lean into each other before they kneel before Heaven and Earth. Wuxian doesn’t even snap at him. Wangji feels -

 

He doesn’t know what he feels, because it’s over so fast, and Wuxian’ eyes meet and hold his own for the first time all day, a dark blush spreading over his cheeks.

 

“Lan Zhan,” he says, his red, red lips curving into a helpless smile. “Our vows.”

 

Wangji realizes, with a start, that the entire room full of people are staring at them expectantly. Wuxian’s blush only grows when the titters start growing more and more amused.

 

“Do I need to?” he asks, and watches Wuxian’s eyes widen, blush darkening in delight. His heart skips, rabbit-fast, when Wuxian places his hands over his own.

 

“No,” Wuxian says, in a low voice. “But I’d like it if you did.” His fingers trail over his pulse point, his smile becoming something softer and more private.

 

Wangji nods, calming his hummingbird heart by pulling Wuxian’s hand to rest over it. Dimly, he registers the crowd squealing, his laser focus only on Wuxian’s laughter in response.

 

For richer or for poorer, in sickness and health, for better or for worse: they will always find each other in every lifetime, their family jokes. This did not make Wangji less nervous as he stands at the altar, until he sees Wuxian's bright face shine back at him.

 

Until he knows, for sure, several times over - even now, that Wuxian wants him back. Always has, even when both of them didn’t know it.

 

“Shall we start?” he asks, and oh, it started a long, long time ago, back on the third week of high school, with a boy who would never shut up and never stop moving, never stop invading his space and his heart until it was hollowed out and replaced only with him alone. This is not a beginning. It is constant change. It is reaffirmation.

 

They have always written their own vows for each other, over and over until it blended into their souls.

 

***

 

“Do you promise to comfort me?”

 

***

 

Wangji is fifteen, and he’s crying in a school bathroom.

 

His normally pristine hair is a tangled mess, and he’s emitting choked sobs every time he tries to pull out more of the slime in it. His fingers wrap around a piece of gum, and he feels like ripping his hair out instead. Maybe if he hadn’t - if he -

 

“Lan Zhan?” the voice he dreads hearing says from outside. “Lan Zhan, oh my god, are you okay? I heard what -”

 

“Stop,” he snarls, through his tears. “Stop calling me that.” It was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place, that and his - his stupid feelings, and maybe if Wei Wuxian hadn’t been in this school at all -

 

“I’m coming in,” he announces, and throws the door open. The boys-only toilets locks from the outside, and Wangji freezes when he realizes he’s made a severe error. He hastily opens the tap, splashing water into his face. Today has been humiliating enough without the added horror of Wei Wuxian seeing him like this.

 

“Lan Zhan, okay, okay, I’ll call you whatever you want - holy shit, your hair.” And he actually sounds distressed enough about it that Wangji almost feels better. “What happened to it?”

 

“Nothing,” he says impassively, immediately throwing up a barrier.

 

“That’s not an answer,” he says immediately. “Did - did someone in school do this?” His voice goes small, and Wangji realizes that he may have actually not had anything to do with this in the first place. The knowledge only serves to make him feel worse.

 

“It matters not,” Wangji says, if only to break the awkward silence that surrounds them. “It will only need to be cut.”

 

“No!” Wuxian protests fervently. “Your clan rules - if you - if you do that, I’ll - I’ll go fight whoever did this to you!”

 

Wangji rolls his eyes, his chaotic feelings settling at this ridiculous display. Wuxian wouldn’t fight women either way, no matter how petty they were being. “It’s acceptable. I will not be an outcast within my family because of something initiated by outsiders.”

 

He immediately feels like he said the wrong thing, because Wuxian’s face becomes closed off, and pensive. Surprisingly, however, he does not leave his side. He does not pull at the ribbon on his wrist, or initiate skin contact. He lends him his pair of kraft scissors, watching the hair fall on the ground. He helps him hold back his hair (Wangji shudders at the contact) when he ties up whatever ruined bits of it are left. The cool air that hits his neck is almost refreshing if he didn’t feel like crying again. His clan rules stated that he was only allowed to cut his hair after -

 

“...Wei Wuxian! What has possessed you!” he exclaims, and Wuxian shrugs, holding up the kraft scissors. The majority of his own lovely long ponytail lies in the sink, slowly being flushed down. He pulls off his ribbon, and his hair immediately springs free, wild like his personality.

 

“Not an outsider,” Wuxian says calmly, as he looks into the mirror, and trims off bits that hang in his eyes. “We’re already so close, aren’t we? Lan Wangji, you need to pick better friends.”

 

Wangji feels faintly catatonic. He knows Wuxian has no idea of the significance of what he’s done, but - “Lan Zhan.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Call me Lan Zhan.”

 

Wuxian’s mouth opens in an o of shock, before it filters into the happiest expression he’s seen on him. “Lan Zhan! Could it be, you don’t find me annoying?”

 

 _How can I find you annoying?_ Wangji thinks helplessly, as Wuxian pulls him into an embrace, happily babbling. _We’re already so close._

 

Wangji is fifteen, and he’s falling in love in a school bathroom.

 

***

 

“I do.”

 

***

 

“Do you promise to make me happy?”

 

***

Wangji hears rather than sees Wuxian stomp through the house, the conversation from the inside only getting louder as he walks towards him. His hand pauses on the string of his guitar, and he puts it away just in time for Wuxian to settle down beside him with a huff. It’s sweltering today, temperatures exceeding thirty five, and Wuxian loosens his collar. Wangji’s eyes immediately go to his open cuffs and then the long line of his exposed throat.

 

He wrenches his eyes away, fixating on the lovely face instead, the scowl upon it.

 

“Rough talk?” he offers, his hand on Wuxian’s back. Wuxian leans back into it, sighing before turning beseeching eyes on him.

 

“Tables. They’re talking about _tables_.” Wuxian complains, and lays his head on Wangji’s lap. Wangji, like any good fiance should, runs his fingers through his hair, and Wuxian closes his eyes in bliss. “Remind me why we haven’t eloped?”

 

“Because then your sister would come for your blood, in your own words,” Wangji reminds him tenderly, and Wuxian melts, because holy shit it should not be fair to have that face and that voice and everything else on top of it. Wuxian has _taste_. He chose Lan Wangji, after all. They really should be listening to his ideas about wedding decor.

 

They should be listening to his ideas about the wedding, period. He doesn’t really need a large one. He needs like...a romantic getaway afterwards. Maybe somewhere near the ocean, where everything is as blue as the ribbon wrapped around Wangji’s hand.

 

“Mhm,” Wangji says, like he just read his mind. “You’ll like it.”

 

“Did I say that out loud?” Wuxian asks, opening his eyes and staring up into that tender, jade-carved face. So many contradictory opposites in a person. _All mine._

 

Wangji shakes his head, and smiles down at his hands, where Wuxian has started fiddling with his ribbon. “You do that every time we talk about where we’re going afterwards.” Oh. That explains it. “You’ll like the destination.”

 

“Silly Lan Zhan,” Wuxian says, and does not elaborate. He doesn’t need to. Wangji makes another softer noise of contentment, and they stay in that position on the porch, away from the cacophony of the inner courtyard for a while.

 

_I’m always happy when I’m with you._

 

***

 

“You already do.” A chorus of aww-ing breaks out, and Yanli cheers. His nephew, adorably enough, cheers with her, and then the crowd’s energy is directed at them both.

 

***

 

“Do you promise to honor me and my decisions?”

 

***

 

Jiang Cheng frowns at the college pamphlet. “You’re going to Yiling? What’s wrong with staying in Yunmeng?”

 

Wuxian shakes his head, stuffing his books inside his locker. “We don’t have the music major program I want and you know it. Plus if I stay here I’ll undoubtedly end up getting Lan Qiren as a professor, and he was bad enough when he was here as a guest lecturer. Yiling’s more flexible with time schedules as long as you’re putting in enough effort to show at the year-end.”

 

“Mhm - oh, hey, long time no see,” A-Cheng waves at someone behind him, and Wuxian turns to see Lan Wangji standing there in the corridor, frozen in a strange pose. His face falls a little - he already knows what he’s about to say.

 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, and Wuxian registers the hand on his arm only after Wangji is right next to him, almost crowding him into the locker. “You’re not staying in Yunmeng?”

 

“Uh, no,” he says sheepishly. “I know, I know, I’ve already been chewed out by everyone, it is pretty far -” his voice becomes more frantic as he sees the curious eyes of his friends rest on them even as they hurry to their next classes, “but I really need the scholarship, and I don’t want to live off everyone’s hospitality forever -”

 

“It’s not a problem, you ass -” A-Cheng starts heatedly.

 

“Come with me to Gusu,” Wangji interrupts, and both of them turn shocked eyes on him. The hallway falls silent, waiting for a response. Wuxian actually wants to die. He knew this would happen, he _knew_ and yet -

 

“I’m avoiding Yunmeng because I know your uncle will be here for some classes in one of my majors, and we’ve never gotten along.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “I’ll be suspended within my first month at Gusu, even if I get approved for a scholarship.”

 

“You won’t,” Wangji says quietly. His golden stained-glass eyes are dark, watching Wuxian’s face thoughtfully. He has no idea what he’s looking for, but Wuxian can’t help but feel something is terribly amiss. “I’ll talk to him -”

 

“Wangji,” he says firmly. “I don’t want my family’s hospitality either - what makes you think I would want an outsider’s kindness?”

 

The second bell rings in the hallway, and students start clearing out, unwillingly racing to their classes. Wuxian is sure they look much more solemn than the situation actually calls for, absurdly thinking of characters from a period drama making life-changing decisions. He supposes it is fair. It _is_ a pretty life-changing decision.

 

Wangji seems to think it is too, like it’s strangely _personal_. His eyes darken further, and his lovely face twists into something inexplicable. “Wei Wuxian!”

 

“I have classes,” he says. He slams his locker closed, and takes off in the direction of Advanced Algebra. Jiang Cheng follows him, steps more hesitant than ever, leaving Lan Wangji standing in the empty hallway like a forlorn, beautiful ghost.

 

He doesn’t notice his shaking hands or the lack of his Algebra notes until he’s already seated.

 

“I’m not getting those for you,” his brother says. “Fuck, think before you speak next time, asshole, he looked devastated.”

 

But why? Wuxian puzzles over his words all day afterwards, even when he goes to get his notes and finds the hallway empty, like Wangji had never been there.

 

“I honestly feel like he’s going to kidnap me right from under your nose,” he tells Yanli, who only laughs from behind the kitchen counter, currently working on one of her pork rib and lotus concoctions, eyes twinkling like a tiny all-knowing witch out of a fairytale as she holds out the ladle for him to taste.

 

“I doubt it,” she says, as Wuxian gives her a thumbs up, and continues to add more spices. “He's always respected your decisions, hasn’t he?”

 

“No, uh, never. Wait,” Wuxian considers the past two years, and the minimal amount of trouble that they had given each other. “I mean, I guess he’d expected he’d be nagging me all the way through college too. I can deal fine without him.”

 

“Then shouldn’t you have said that instead?” she asks pointedly, turning up the heat on the stove. Wuxian’s mouth falls open.

 

“Shijie!” he pouts. “Are you seriously taking his side?”

 

“Mhm, you’re not my future brother-in-law, so I don't need to mince words with you.” Her eyes glisten with amusement as Wuxian keeps groaning.

 

Wuxian doesn't understand that analogy beyond the fact that Yanli is definitely poking fun at him. “Please never compare me to Jin Zixun again. Ugh.”

 

“Anyway,” Yanli says, much more serious all of a sudden. “A-Xian, please never doubt that we will support you, no matter where you are. All the people who love you will. A-Cheng will complain for a while because he'll miss you, but -”

 

“But he needs his own space to shine,” Wuxian agrees, electing to ignore the frown on Yanli's face. He knows better than anyone the friction his presence has caused in the Jiang household over the past twelve years. “I’ll miss you too, shijie.”

 

“So will young master Lan,” Yanli reprimands. “You’re his friend, A-Xian. Talk to him. I know he hasn’t been by because of all the recitals he’s been doing abroad, so you choosing a university while he was gone probably shocked him.” She takes the soup off the stove, and sets it on the table. “Now help me set the table, would you?”

 

He does, and he thinks about it at night again. He can see the stars so clear from Yunmeng, and Yiling is in the heart of a polluted, dead city. It means the campus is small, the number of students even smaller, and bad Wi-fi for at least a couple of years or more until he’s figured out how to move out.

 

That’s another thing he keeps thinking about. He has no doubt that after he’s done with his education in Yiling he’ll have to move out. Cheng would be taking over the business and shijie would be in Lanling with her in-laws and that awful fiance of hers who definitely did not appreciate her enough, and the last thing Wuxian wants is to be in the middle of that particular shitstorm.

 

Against all his faculties screaming for him to not, he texts Lan Wangji on an impulse.

 

_hey sorry about earlier I just really want to study out of the district_

 

The reply comes almost instantly, because of course Lan Zhan is an efficient texter.

 

_I expected as much. Far be it from me to stop you. We are both adults._

 

Wuxian frowns down at the message. Before he can reply, another one follows.

 

_Do not forget to keep in touch with your prior acquaintances. We will all be in sister schools._

 

His mouth quirks up into an amused smile when he types out the reply.

 

_Acquaintances? Don’t you mean yourself? Lan Zhan...could it be that you’ll miss me?_

 

He doesn’t get a reply after that, the Read notification glaring back at him. Wuxian laughs and laughs, worries forgotten as he settles into bed.

 

The reply comes in the morning, after he’s had breakfast, startling him at the table until Madame Yu stares him down in disapproval. He checks only once he’s leaving for school.

 

_I didn’t want it to seem like I would not respect your decision, Wei Ying._

 

“What are you grinning like a fool about?” Jiang Cheng asks, and Wuxian slips his phone back into his pocket, trying to stop radiating happiness.

 

***

 

“Haven’t you?”

 

The hall cheers, and then titters with laughter, as Jiang Cheng yells back a “TMI!” This causes some half-inappropriate laughter, and Wuxian puts his finger to his lips and winks, causing the raucous laughter to grow.

 

***

 

“Do you promise to love me, even as we both change and grow?”

 

***

 

The day is sunny, and when Wuxian hobbles down to the swingset, his smile turns brighter. The place is much cleaner, but some things have remained the same.

 

“So much has changed in Gusu,” Wuxian says, as he makes himself comfortable on the swing. Wangji chooses to sit sedately on the one next to him. “Even more rules than when I was here that one semester. Hey, Lan Zhan, remember when I sneaked those rabbits into campus? Did anyone eventually catch and roast them?” He takes the opportunity to look over at Wangji’s face.

 

Wangji’s golden eyes bore into him, almost scaring him with the intensity of his gaze. Wuxian drops it immediately, looking away. He braces his feet on the ground to swing a bit higher, marvelling that the old frame can take his weight. “Mm, at least this old thing can still take me on, haha! Not a lot of people can, after -”

 

Wuxian pauses, his smile dimming. Wangji understands. Coming out had nearly ruined his college life, and his decision to stick it out at Yiling along with a few of his friends had nearly gotten him into trouble several times. It took a lot of begging and money exchanging hands - from both the Jiangs, and him, not that either of them acknowledged where the funds where going - to help him out of potentially dangerous situations.

 

Not that it had stopped them from attempting to throw Wuxian off the third floor balcony.

 

Wuxian had no idea how the thirteen months afterwards had been, with him stuck in what seemed to be a semi-permanent coma. He had woken up with a new, reconstructed face, with his bones still healing from the fall.

 

The Jiangs had been told that he might never wake up. They did not stop his life support. Now, newly awake, he wonders what he’s done to deserve them. To deserve any of his friends - Wen Ning, who had been the first one at the site, Wen Qing, who had constantly checked in on him at the hospital, if reports were any indication, going far past her own duties. What had he done to deserve his shijie, who had cried at his bedside for weeks afterwards? For Jiang Cheng, who had tirelessly fought the lawsuit even while the defendant himself lay asleep and useless?

 

“Stop self-deprecating,” Wangji replies, after a beat. “None of that is your fault. It’s who you are.”

 

“That’s unexpectedly mature of you, Lan Zhan,” he says, his face still caught in that fake bright smile. He looks down, fiddling with the ribbon on his hand that Wangji had still not taken back. “I would have thought that you wouldn’t understand, but I appreciate your attempt to empathize. We both have changed a lot, after all.”

 

“My attempt?” Wangji says softly. Wuxian’s heart thuds. This is it - he has read everything wrong and this is the last straw -

 

“It’s - it’s not like you nearly got kicked out of college over a dating scandal -” he tries, laughing, before he feels fingers on his cheek, pulling his face towards Wangji’s as he descends on the swing, and he turns to see a familiar, shockingly beautiful face for only a split second before a pair of lips meet his own.

 

When he pulls away, Wuxian realizes Wangji is shaking harder than him, like the attempt had taken everything out of him. His own eyes are blown wide, slowly slotting things into place.

 

“Lan Zhan,” he says, voice cracking. “How - why? What changed?”

 

Wangji doesn’t reply for a moment. He studies his face, like he’s committing everything to memory - the chip over his eyebrows where he’d accidentally cut it, a nick on his chin from shaving one time, the scar on his cheek from a fight he got in the last year.

 

“Wei Ying,” he says, tenderly. “I have not yet seen a version of you that is not worthy of love.”

 

Wuxian sucks in a breath. “I - how long?”

 

Wangji shakes his head. “The only thing that has changed is how much I have come to love you - and it has never been any less.”

 

***

 

To everyone’s (and no one’s) surprise, Wuxian tears up. He smiles through his tears, and looks at the priest. “Can I kiss him now?”

 

The priest conceals a smile. “The floor is yours.”

 

Wuxian doesn’t even wait for the nod. He grabs Wangji’s collar, and pulls him into a kiss in advance, one that leaves the hall clapping, one that leaves Wangji half-gasping for air and half for more when he breaks them apart. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright with tears.

 

“I haven’t either,” he says. There is some confusion, which gets quickly covered with more delight when Wangji pulls him into his arms.

 

It is all the answer he needs.

 

“Come on, everyone,” Wuxian says, pulling away. His ring glints on his finger, and he entwines his hand with Wangji’s. “It’s time for food!”

 

The hall cheers, louder than ever, as the guests start to disperse, and Wuxian looks back at him fondly. Wangji nods, and they take the first step forward into their life together.

 

***

  
[CODA]  


As long as Wuxian has remembered, marriage has always seemed a terrifying concept. Tethering yourself to one person, always with the risk of getting caught in a freefall with no one to catch you.

 

He thinks of this when he falls from the balcony, wondering if anyone would have caught him, if Lan Zhan would just eye him and say _how absurd_.

 

He wakes up to a white hospital ceiling, and a throbbing headache. There is someone singing at his bedside, and he can’t see them properly yet. He fades out of consciousness the next moment, and wonders - _Who is that?_

 

“Wei Ying?” the voice says. The singing stops, and the person moves in closer.

 

“I’m...here,” he forces out, and hears him gasp. He wants to laugh, and would, if his voice doesn’t feel so unused. “Wow, you’re so hot, date me?”

 

The man flushes deeply, his ears absolutely burning instead of his beautiful jade-carved cheeks, eyes widening, stuttering - it’s all there. Adorable. Why isn’t Wuxian dating him yet?

 

“I mean, unless you already have someone, obviously,” he says, and then winces. His head _hurts_. “Uh. Are you the doctor here?”

 

“No, I -” The beautiful man presses the buzzer next to the bed, and gets up, running fingers through his tiny ponytail. His bare hand stands out, and Wuxian squints at it, like something isn’t right. “I’ll leave. Your shijie should be here soon.”

 

He leaves without giving his name, nearly bumping into the door even as he walks as gracefully as possible in his hurry to get out. Wuxian sighs and falls back into bed. It’s not like he won’t see him again, but it feels so - wrong, somehow -

 

His thoughts are broken by his door banging open again, and a woman dressed in all yellow entering. He blanks out for a second, before she barges in and rushes to his bedside. “A-Xian, you’re - you’re awake!” She looks ready to cry - her eyes look like she hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

 

Wuxian’s brain slowly reacts. “Shijie?” He raises a hand weakly to trace her cheek. “Are you -” he breaks off, watching the ribbon tied on his hand. The one that was never supposed to be taken off - the one that he’d taken off far too many times.

 

The realization dawns on him. “Oh. Oh fuck.”

 

“I’d scold you but - you’re awake. Oh my god,” she babbles, and goes straight into crying. “Brother is still in court - you’ve missed a lot - and young Lan Wangji was just here, he said -”

 

“Fuck,” he repeats. “Shijie, I think I’m in love.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is a labour of love, so it is fitting that it ends with the word. it's still imperfect, because I had to rush it a fair bit, and cut down a lot, but hopefully it makes sense, and hopefully you all enjoy reading it - cherry and rebecca most of all, because they're the ones who held my hand through most of it.


End file.
